


Spilled Wine

by flibbertygigget



Series: The Other 51 [28]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7039636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron Burr has reasons to talk less and smile more.</p><p>(The Vampire AU no one wanted)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilled Wine

Alexander Hamilton is bright and alive and intoxicating. He is unlike anything that Burr has ever scented.

Aaron Burr has reasons for his maxims. Talk less, smile more. Wait for it. Talking less meant less breath wasted, less need to smell the wine that tempted him eternally. Waiting meant exerting complete control over his every action, holding back his most primal urges. He was, after all, the one thing in life he could control. Humans couldn't help being so delectable.

It had been centuries since Aaron Burr had Awakened, killing his mother, father, wife, and daughter. That was when he swore to never again drink the blood of a living human. But there are times like this when he forgets that promise to himself, when he forgets everything except the scent of blood.

Hamilton is not wine, he is ambrosia. Burr has a theory, born from many years of experience, that those with the character for greatness are rendered more tempting to his kind, either as an evolutionary safeguard against humanity becoming too dominant or as a divine punishment for his fallen condition. Either way, the fact of the matter is that being around Hamilton is like placing the finest five-course meal in front of a starving man and then forbidding him to eat. It is possible, but one small slip and he will pounce upon it like an animal.

In this case, the small slip is an open wound, and unfortunately there are plentiful opportunities for that in the army.

Ironically, it is not on the battlefield that Aaron Burr meets temptation face to face, but after the battle, as they are resting in the tent they share. Hamilton is ignoring the exhaustion that is always present in favor of writing, always writing, translating missives from English to French and drafting pleas for more supplies from Congress. Burr is allowing himself a rare moment of indulgence, or unguarded enjoyment of Hamilton's scent, letting it gather around him in a pleasant haze, when it happens.

To Hamilton it is only a papercut, but to Burr it might as well have been a bullet wound. The scent becomes overwhelming, blocking out every logical thought in Burr's mind and pushing aside his walls. He cannot remember the very good reasons why he waits and does not drink of the wine. He forgets everything but the need to consume all of Hamilton that he can.

His teeth are at Hamilton throat. Somehow, even with Burr's hands locking him onto the chair and Burr's body bearing down on him, Hamilton seems calm. in fact, he seems eager, arching his bronzey neck and almost offering it to Burr's mouth. And that invitation is what undoes whatever inhibitions had still held Burr back.

Hamilton only begins to struggle when Burr's fangs pierce his skin, but it is too late for him to get away. The same venom that makes the feeding a painless experience also acts as a mild sedative, keeping the prey calm and in place. Burr drinks long and deep, feeling his always-empty stomach become warm and full as he feeds, allowing the intoxicating taste slip over his tongue luxuriously.

Burr pulls back when he has drunk his fill. The wide-eyed, scared look that Hamilton gives him makes a stab of guilt go through him. He had not wanted to do this, to lose control.

"I thought..." Hamilton whispers, too drained to say anything more.

"I'm sorry," Burr says. He can't look into Hamilton's eyes as he snaps his neck. 


End file.
